Lights, Camera, Action!
by Aceson35
Summary: Percy Jackson is a celebrity known across America... Annabeth Chase is just a small-town girl. What happens when their paths cross and Cupid works his magic? Will A&P's love survive? Or will it be trampled under the paparazzi's feet? Percabeth!
1. Chapter 1: New York, New York!

Percy Jackson is a top celebrity—his perfectly-chiseled face is known across America, his photos are always front cover, and his movies are the best thing since high heels. So what happens when he meets Annabeth Chase, just an extraordinarily normal girl, by complete accident? And what happens when he falls head over heels? Annabeth has never been into celebrities. Has never heard of this Percy Jackson. So why is it that whenever she sees his face, she feels magnetically pulled toward it? Can two utterly different people—a big celebrity hot-shot and a small-town girl—live in the spotlight? Or will their love be crushed under the paparazzi's feet?

Percy's POV

It was totally an accident.

I never saw her coming, never expected it. I just hit her, as if magnetically pulled.

Cars honked in the distance as I turned the corner, bumping nose to nose with the cutest person I had ever met.

The girl looked shyly up at me, revealing two big, stormy eyes. They were like something out of a Disney movie—huge and round and lined with delicate lashes. Her hair fell gracefully down to her shoulders, a waterfall of golden curls. Everything about her was fragile, like porcelain.

"What do you think you're doing?" She spat, her tone surprising me.

"Uuuhhh…" I blinked, stretching the vowel out. "Nothing, I just—"

"Watch where you're going," she advised snidely, picking up her now-fallen bag.

I stared at her big eyes, startled. Beautiful _and_ sassy.

"Why are you still watching me?" She snapped, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

I shrugged, smiling, "Maybe it's because you're so approachable."

She glared at me, then sighed. "Annabeth Chase. Just trying to get around New York."

I grinned, "Percy Jackson. Just trying not to run into people."

There was the name: Percy Jackson. Only the biggest, brightest name of the year. Six time Oscar award winner, three best picture awards, the number-one voted actor of the year. Percy Jackson: celebrity. Percy Jackson: most-wanted guy in America.

I half-expected her to scream and squeal at my name, but nothing happened. She just stared at me. Eventually, I coughed and looked down at the ground again.

She cocked her head, "You certainly don't live here, do you?"

I winced. "Is it that obvious?"

Annabeth never replied. Instead, she quickly readjusted her bag and smiled firmly.

"So, what brings you to the Big Apple?"

I looked up at the many rows of buildings. "The experience, I guess," I spoke, "Everyone has to go to New York at least once in their lives."

She nodded sourly. "Yeah, it's an awesome experience if you go once over the holidays. It's a whole other hell living here forever."

I processed it quietly, then asked, "You're _sure_ you don't recognize me?"

She laughed nervously, "No. Well… If you're the guy who always hangs out by the drug store, believe me, you're ruining the business. People are _scared_ of you. Is that you? The guy that—"

I laughed, "No, I'm pretty sure I'm not."

She looked curiously for a moment, then smiled firmly, "In that case… Goodbye, Percy Jackson."

I smiled happily, "Goodbye, Annabeth Chase."

And in a flash, the girl of my dreams was gone.

My manager, Chiron, was on a rampage.

Ah, the perks of being a celebrity: having a manager, living the dream, and listening to rages.

I sat, perched on a fluffy sofa, listening to the yelling and screaming. Chiron was ripping my assistant, Rachel, a new one. She had apparently been taking my things and selling them for thousands on ebay. It was, in a way, flattering that someone would pay so much for something of mine. Then again, I would probably want someone to ask permission before they started selling.

Chiron's cheeks flushed red with anger as he ordered my assistant, Rachel, out of the room. Tears streamed down her face as she grabbed my coat and ran.

Ah, the terrors of being a celebrity: fan obsessions, ebay-selling girls, and constant problems.

Chiron sighed as soon as Rachel scampered out of the room.

"That's the third one fired this week," I said, lounging on a brand new sofa. "Are there any assistants that aren't head over heels for me?"

Chiron laughed, "You _are_ the ladies' man, aren't you, Percy?"

I winked at him, grabbing a soda can from the mini fridge and popping open the tab.

"You know me too well, Chiron."

"Indeed," he laughed, "Well enough to know that you want another assistant here by noon?"

I shrugged, sipping my soda. Was there any girl on this planet that wouldn't try to hug me, squeal at me, kiss me? Scratch that. Was there any girl even worth kissing?

Then my mind clicked.

I suddenly remembered someone. Someone who wouldn't treat me like a celebrity. Someone who would treat me like a normal, ordinary person. Someone from New York.

"Chiron," I said, picking my words carefully, "I think I know who I want to be my assistant."

"Oh no," he started, "Not that dreaded Miley Cyrus—"

"No," I chuckled, "Look up the name… Annabeth Chase."


	2. Chapter 2: The Pink Curtain

Annabeth's POV

It was late when I got home.

Rain poured down on the windows of the yellow taxi, and thunder crackled in the distance. Cold air seeped through the cracks of the doors, and I shivered.

New York was such a cold place. Full of commercials and calories and horrid people.

I thought of Percy, and changed the sentence: Full of commercials and calories and horrid people, plus one angel.

How could anyone resist his Caribbean-blue eyes, his soft, black hair? It was so unruly and wild, how much would it cost to run my fingers through it? And he smelled so fresh—like a clean soap bar in comparison to the musty, dusty streets of NY.

I sighed, leaning out the window. My fingers played with an owl necklace tied around my neck.

He was so… exotic. So different. He seemed real and, at the same time, unreal.

But he probably had a girlfriend. After all, the girl to boy ratio of Earth was 2:1. There had to be a list of girls waiting for him to free up.

Still, I clasped my heart and smiled. The stars weren't visible through all the air pollution, but I made a wish anyway.

And suddenly, New York seemed a whole lot brighter.

_Bring! Bring! You have a call!_

Out of the blue, my whole body vibrated in the backseat as my ringtone blared.

_Bring! Bring! You have a call!_

I grabbed my iPhone and pressed ANSWER, heart still racing from the sudden vibrations.

"Hello?"

"This is Chiron Shapiro, from Hit Star Studios," a voice spoke from the other side.

"Huh?"

"May I speak with Annabeth Chase, please?" He asked.

I blinked. "I'm here."

"Great. You've been hired as a personal assistant," Chiron cheered. "See you at the Monair Building at 12!"

"Wha—" I gripped the phone harder, "But, huh? Personal assistant for who? I'm already on my way home!"

I could feel Chiron smile from the other side of the phone. "I'm aware. We have a limo waiting at your house."

"WHAT?"

"Listen, Ms. Chase, please don't make a fuss," he ordered, "Percy Jackson has specifically requested you for his new personal assistant. This is a big honor. We have a limo waiting at your house to pick you up and take you to the Monair Building. Simply continue on your route home and we'll pick you up."

My mouth hung slightly open. Percy Jackson. Percy, the boy I had met on the street… He was a celebrity? I smacked my forehead. Of course! Now it all made sense. How he kept asking me if he looked familiar, why he looked so… perfect.

He was famous.

"Are you there, Ms. Chase?"

"Huh? Oh—yes! Yeah, I'll see you there, then?"

"You better. He hasn't stopped talking about you since we fired the old assistant."

I blushed, my face suddenly hot.

"Um, great. I'll be there."

Chiron hung up, but I still held the phone to my ear.

The events sprinted through my mind:

Percy Jackson was really a famous celebrity.

Percy wanted me to be his assistant.

Percy hadn't stopped talking about me.

Percy was suddenly the biggest boy-crush I had had since third grade.

I grinned like an idiot, pushing my phone back into the bag.

Percy. Jackson. Percy. Jackson.

The taxi rounded the corner into my apartment building, and I started to open the door.

That was when I saw the huge limousine parked right in the drop-off lane.

It was long and black, not a fingerprint to be seen. The windows were tinted, but the shiny outside was enough proof. It was… magical.

I thought about Percy again, and how he was real and unreal. I decided on unreal.

The limo's driver quickly opened the taxi door, and I stepped out of the taxi and into the beautiful limo. Suddenly, my sandals were sinking into plush carpet. Smooth leather seats outlined the sides of the car, mini fridges stored underneath. I carefully opened one, delighted at the many stocks of soda and sugary desserts.

In the back, there was a heavy pink curtain. I expected a bathroom, but slid the curtain away to find a closet of… miracles. Beautiful designer clothes were hung up in perfect color coordination, and rows of high heels lined the racks.

A sticky note clung to the mirror:

MAKE YOURSELF AT HOME.

I grabbed a dress without thinking, closed the curtain, and began to change.

The dress was black, strapless, and unusually tight. It fit like a glove. I glanced at the tag, and noticed the Prada sticker. How chic. I clipped a Gucci belt around my waist and grabbed a pair of stiletto heels.

This was risky; I usually never wore high heels. But they were normally expensive and out of my league. How could I not try them on?

Heels, check. Belt, check. Dress, check. Everything was in order.

I began checking through a few of the separate drawers to find many makeup accessories.

Blush, eyeliner, bronzer, foundation, concealer, eye shadow, lipstick, lip gloss, lip liner.

The possibilities were endless.

Something clicked within me. A more childish, more girly side of me was unlocked as I began to apply different things and experiment with different colors and palettes. It was so amazing and incredible and unlike anything I had ever done.

When the pink curtain was pulled aside, I emerged wearing winged eyeliner, smoky black eye shadow, and a brand new attitude.

I felt, for the first time ever, like a princess.

The rest of the limo ride was relatively short. The makeup had taken awhile to apply, and getting through the traffic wasn't as difficult so late at night.

I smiled, sitting on one of the leather seats. Everything was perfect. It was all glamorous and exciting, so different from my little rinky-dink apartment. How had things changed so quickly?

I ran my hands over the leather, smiling. It was flawless, as expected.

Then, my hand bumped over something rougher.

I leaned down, looking at a little blemish in the seat. There was something carved in the leather, something sliced through it…

Percy + Rachel 4ever 3

My breath caught in my throat, and suddenly the world was spinning. What if Percy already had a girlfriend? It was possible then, it was possible now. After all, I had only been hired as his assistant, not his wife.

My face grew red and hot as my fingers traced over the dreaded carving. Who was this Rachel girl? Was she… important to Percy?

"We're here," the driver called from the front, and I snapped my head up to see a gigantic structure emerge from the shadows. As an architect, the fancy railings and front patio immediately grabbed my attention.

"Is this the Monair Building?" I asked.

"No," he looked at me as if I was crazy, "This is Percy's house."

I watched the one and only Percy step out and into the limo, strangely compelling in his suit and tie. His black hair was slicked back, and I felt myself relax. No Rachel to be found.

He seemed to smile when he saw me, making my heart flip in my chest.

"Hello, Annabeth Chase," he smiled humbly.

"You're a celebrity," I accused, narrowing my eyes.

The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile. "You could say that."

"And _you_, you didn't even tell me!" I threw my hands up in exasperation, suddenly filled with energy.

He leaned in close and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "You seem to be enjoying the perks, though, aren't you?"

I blushed, realizing that I was wearing a horribly revealing black dress and lots of makeup.

He leaned away. "You look good. Great, even. Well, not even great, you look incredible, but…"

A ring of awkward silence followed. I played with my thumbs, unsure of what to do. Car rides were always weird like this. What were we supposed to say?

I offered a small smile. "So, where are we going now?"

He cringed. "The Monair Building."

Another silence.

"You seem upset," I observed carefully.

Percy looked at me. "I got a seaweed wrap there once."

The cords of awkwardness were unraveled as I burst into laughter. Percy looked startled, but not entirely displeased.

"What's so funny?" He asked, hinting a smile.

"A-a seaweed wrap?" I guffawed, my stomach aching with laughter, "Those are for girls, aren't they? Guys don't actually get those!"

He laughed, "Well, I happen to know that, Wise Girl."

I continued laughing, but couldn't stop squealing on the inside.

He just gave me a nickname. What would I call him?

Thinking of nothing better, I smiled, "Seaweed Brain!"

We began to joke together, and I felt myself lose the weight of city streets and air pollution.

It felt good to laugh again.


	3. Chapter 3: The Monair Building

Percy's POV

The Monair Building was huge.

Lights shone from the many windows, and sounds of clinking glasses and laughter were heard from even outside the vicinity. People strolled along the strip of turf that sat just outside, staring at what appeared to be a gigantic ice sculptor.

I glanced at Annabeth.

Her wide eyes looked around, taking in the many sights and sounds.

She was so perfect. Like a little green present, wrapped in a big, silky bow just in front of the fire. There was something so comforting about her, like the warmth of the sun's rays on my skin.

I said nothing, though secretly stared at her from behind. My jaw had dropped when she had arrived wearing the Prada dress and heels, and she seemed to grow brighter and brighter by the second.

"So," she smiled, raising her eyebrows, "Is _this_ the Monair Building?"

My breath caught in my throat. "Yeah."

"Do you visit often?" She asked, readying to get out of the limo.

I shrugged, "Not really. Not… after the seaweed experience."

She offered a genuine smile, and my heart did a cartwheel. She had to love me. Why else would she be looking at me like that? Those doe-like eyes, those rosy lips…

Our limo quickly rolled into the drop-off, where countless paparazzi clicked with their cameras. I gently opened the heavy door and watched as people began to shoot pictures of me. News reporters held out microphones, but I casually ignored the gestures and strolled onto the red carpet.

Annabeth seemed to put on a polite but concrete mask, smiling for a few people but still walking at a quick pace. I fast-walked to catch up with her, throwing an arm around her waist. The gesture made the clicking noise continue even louder, and I could already here the headline: _Jackson's Mystery Girl._

But Annabeth looked back at me and scowled, shaking her head like a disapproving parent. I grinned mischievously for the cameras, but tried to keep my heart from melting on the inside. Maybe she didn't like me after all. Maybe she was just my assistant and nothing more.

"Seaweed Brain," she said through the side of her mouth, and I winked.

"Wise Girl."

She then grabbed my arm and rewrapped it around her waist.

"Permission first," she reminded humbly, leading me into the Monair Building.

Normally, I led the girl into the party. But this time, the girl was leading me.

Noise filled every part of the Monair Building, echoing through the many rooms and hallways. Party guests guffawed in the different corners, and dresses of all kinds glimmered in the light. Champagne bottles were stuck in buckets of fresh ice and people quickly grabbed at them, but I made no move.

I had lost Annabeth in the crowd and then spotted her again leaning against the table. Her eyes were huge and she spun in her dress, completely dizzy and unaware. Her smile was wide and crooked, innocent. She giggled in a high pitch.

Drunk.

I caught her before she fell on her face. "Annabeth, _what_ did you drink?" I asked.

She traced my jawline with her finger, and I pretended not to shiver from pleasure. "Had some—hiccup!—lemonade. Tasted—hiccup—_so_ sour. Sour, sour, like a flower…"

She began to giggle again, and I let her lean against me. The lemonade. The alcoholic lemonade at the entrance. She must have thought it was clean.

I looked around the room, but no one seemed to notice her drunkenness. After all, it was common at the celebrity parties. But what if someone made a move? With her lost and completely defenseless, she couldn't save herself.

Speak of the devil.

Grover, the local gross guy, strolled carelessly up to Annabeth. My stomach tied itself in a knot as he threw an arm around her shoulders, leaning close enough to kiss.

"What's your name, little doll?" Grover grinned, beginning to grab at Annabeth's chest.

I growled, fists forming behind my back. Anger shot through my veins like lava.

She hummed to herself, tripping over her own two feet.

He licked his lips hungrily, "I'll be taking _this one_ to the hotel room."

I felt my anger rise to its highest level before the energy broke free, and I punched Grover square in the face. He stumbled back, taken by surprise but, at the same time, not entirely shocked.

"What's wrong?" He taunted, grabbing Annabeth roughly by the wrist, "Cat got your tongue?"

Grover grabbed her and began to slide off one of her dress straps, almost drooling with anticipation.

Rage riveted through me as I tackled him to the ground, launching punches like bullets from a machine gun. He groaned in laughter as fists rained from above. Annabeth collapsed on the floor and cackled in laughter as I doled out bruises, leaving all mercy behind.

"She's not yours," he reminded arrogantly, looking proud.

"Don't. Touch. Her." I snarled to him before scooping Annabeth up in my arms.

Then I turned around, kissed my angel on the forehead, and walked out the door.


	4. Chapter 4: Room Service!

Annabeth's POV

I woke up in a Ritz hotel with a large headache.

That was it. Zip. Zilch. Zero. No memory, no nothing.

Heavy sheets hung over my tired body, and I did nothing but rub my forehead. It hurt. Bad.

Instead of my Prada dress, silk pajamas covered me. How I had gotten them, I had no idea.

But they were there.

What had happened last night? Why wouldn't anything strike a memory? The silky pj's I had never before owned yet somehow ended up wearing, the Ritz Carleton hotel I had apparently checked into, the Monair Building I remembered going to but forgot what actually happened, and the fact that Percy Jackson was sleeping right beside me, _arms around my waist_.

I thought about moving, but my head pierced with pain and I stayed still. His heart rate was so recognizable, like a drum. _Beat. Beat. Beat._ Was that dumb? I had never been the romantic type, but somehow it made me giddy.

Percy gasped in that moment, and I thought he was awake. But he only shifted in his sleep, and mumbled, "Marry me, Annabeth."

Then his arms tightened, and I found myself pressed against his warm body.

"No, I want," he whispered, still stuck in a dream, "A boy…"

I felt myself grin. He talked in his sleep. It would be cruel to record what he said, but…

I whispered softly in his ear, holding back a smile. "I think I'd want a girl."

He smiled lazily, eyes still shut. "Me too… Whatever makes my angel… happy."

I nuzzled into him, and he moaned in satisfaction.

"Dinner in the candlelight makes me _happy_," I cooed, fighting back laughter.

It was mean to mess with him, but who wouldn't take the chance?

He wrapped me into his arms and kissed me down the neck, humming. "_Does_ it?"

"Mmm-hmm," I tickled his ear, fingering with the buttons on his shirt.

"How happy can I make _you_?" He asked, kissing me on the lips.

"Immensely happy," I grinned, trying not to make noise as I pressed the recording button on my phone.

This would be awesome.

"Why are you recording?" He asked, eyes still closed. "It was just getting good."

My eyes widened in shock, and my cheeks flustered red. Oh my god—he was awake. He was awake, but he had had his eyes closed, and he had heard me! I felt myself turn tomato red. What would I say? What _could_ I say?

"Don't stop on my account," he grinned, popping one eye open.

I smacked his arm and turned away, feeling stupid. Not immensely happy, but immensely stupid.

He smirked, "Permission to wrap my arms around you?"

I huffed, "Why am I even here, anyway? I can't remember anything from last night."

Suddenly, Percy's eyes turned cold and steely and his mouth went rigid.

"What happened?" I asked, "What did I do? W-what happened?"

In a snap, he smiled and spoke, "Nothing. Nothing happened. You just fell asleep on one of the couches, and I drove you to the nearest hotel. No big deal."

I narrowed my eyes, but he never stopped grinning. There was something false about it, something molded to look like the real thing… Plastic, it seemed. Eventually, I sighed.

"OK. But how did I—we—get here?" I motioned to the room.

He smiled, "I couldn't leave you _alone_, now could I?"

I rolled my eyes before hopping off the bed. "So where are we going now?"

He winked, "Nowhere. I checked in with Chiron, and he said that we had the day off. Cool, right?"

I looked at my iPhone, feeling dumb. "Yeah. Cool."

He wrapped his arms around my waist. "We can try the recording scene over, if you want."

I blushed, then offered a small smile. "You wish."

We stayed in the room for almost the entire day.

Percy ordered room service, and we played a card game while eating small ice cream portion sizes. I lost most of the games, but eventually I began to cheat and winning became easier.

Percy continued to make mischievous poker faces, and we spent a good while just making dumb faces, which made me feel better. Unfortunately, I won most of those.

Finally, we brought in dinner and began to chow down. We both ordered an all-American burger, and though Percy could only eat half of it, I finished mine whole. There was something beautiful about a girl that could eat like a man.

The entire day, although short, was one of the most care-free of my entire life. Every day, I had to worry about financial problems and apartments and taxes and jobs. But here, there was nothing but cloud nine. What were taxes? I could barely remember.

Percy cut a slice of chocolate cake, smiling.

I finished one last fry before grabbing the dessert, feeling invincible.

And then the phone buzzed.

I looked at my own phone, but the screen was blank. Wasn't mine.

Percy picked up his own, and read the text message before sliding it back into his pocket.

But I still had time to read the name:

_**Rachel**_.

And suddenly, I wasn't feeling so hungry.


	5. Chapter 5: Tell Me

Percy POV

I offered to sleep on the couch while Annabeth slept on the bed, but she refused to let me make the sacrifice and I refused her. So, we both ended up sleeping in the bed, as the first night.

She was already whisked away in a beautiful dream, lost in the comfort of sleep. I stared at her back, feeling small and dumb. After dinner, she'd been cold and calculating, as if she knew something about me that I would never tell.

She seemed kind of… bitter, for some reason.

I said nothing as my arms wrapped softly around her body. So beautiful and fragile, like a porcelain doll. I tried to get her big eyes out of my mind, and failed.

How had all this happened so fast? I had only met her a few days ago, and already I wanted to get on one knee and ask for marriage.

"Don't touch me," she mumbled in her sleep, kicking tiredly. "Don't… hit me."

I held her tight as she thrashed, looking hurt and desperate.

"Tell me," she whispered.

I wanted to know what she was thinking, but my phone buzzed for the fourth time that night. I leaned over and sighed in irritation.

_Rachel: The end is near :)_

I slid from Annabeth and hit delete, trying not to feel angry. Couldn't she just let me go? It was enough that she had sold my things, and now she wanted to be my girlfriend. Like, forever.

Annabeth wrestled with the sheets, "Tell me. Tell me, please!"

Another text erupted from my phone, and I rolled my eyes.

But it wasn't Rachel.

_Chiron: Come outside._

Leaving Annabeth in bed, I tiptoed outside the hotel room to where Chiron was conveniently leaning against the wall. He looked tired but determined, fierce.

I rubbed my eyes, "Well? This better be important."

"Annabeth's fired," Chiron spoke crisp and clean.

My eyes widened, "What? Why? She's doing great."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Exactly, Percy. She's doing _too_ great of a job. People think she's your girlfriend, and you're a guy celebrity. Almost 100% of your fans are girls. Annabeth is hurting your stardom."

"So?" I asked, my breathing suddenly heavy. "What does it matter?"

"Those girl fans, that 100%, is going to find someone else if you don't become the bachelor again," Chiron said, "And it's not like you two are actually together anyway, so what's the harm, right? Just another assistant you throw away."

I said nothing.

"It's almost six AM, so I should get back to my room," he smiled as if nothing had happened, "Just… Tell her you don't love her, and then we'll get a guy assistant."

I felt small as he walked away, leaving the hallway. My insides churned as everything burned. What would I say? What _could_ I say to her? There were no words… Just thoughts and feelings and emotions that had no context.

I opened the door of the hotel room and walked to see Annabeth awake.

She smiled, her stormy eyes now open. "Look, Percy, I'm so glad you're back, I need to talk to you."

I forced a weak smile, "Yeah, I need to talk to you too. But… you go first."

She shrugged, "Alright. So I've been having dreams and nightmares and all these different things, and I finally have the courage. Tell me," she prompted.

My intestines swirled. Those two words. She'd been having intense dreams involving those words. Whatever the question was, it was important.

"Just be honest," she met my eyes, "Do you love me or not?"

My insides froze as she searched me for an answer.

"I mean, we've spent time together and I thought that maybe, since we've been talking and working, you might start to like—"

"No."

She paused, and looked in confusion. "What?"

"I don't love you," I said coldly, fighting back the words, "I never did. I never will. You're my assistant, not my girlfriend. And… I don't need you."

Her eyes welled with tears, and she bit her lip. "I-I just thought—"

"Did you ever think you, out of all the people, could be with me?" I forced myself to look away, unable to stop my hands from trembling. "You're fired. Now… Get out."

She sniffled, and ran from the room.

My muscles shook as I quivered with pain. She was gone. She was gone. She was gone.

I punched the wall, angry and hurt. My eyes burned with bitter tears as energy coursed through each and every vein. She was gone. She was gone. She was gone. What had I done? How had I just let her go like that?

Rachel's incoming text was like a punch to my stomach.

_Rachel: I'll be yours forever. You don't need Annabeth._

I grabbed my phone and threw it against the wall, screaming. It shattered in two on impact, and all of the pieces scattered into the carpet.

The realization burned in my throat then, an ever-present ghost.

She was gone.


	6. Chapter 6: Glitter and Pastries

Annabeth's POV

"No, Mom. The job application didn't work out. It was stupid anyway. Yeah? Ok, I'll see you at home… I love you, too."

I snapped the phone shut and stared into the hazy blue. Percy had never loved me.

He had just taken my heart and stomped it, made sure it deflated. There was nothing left, nothing but the color of his deep sea-green eyes.

My body shook from the tears. It was probably Rachel. Whoever that Rachel girl was, she was probably his real girlfriend. Everything hurt so much that I hardly noticed the server, looming over the table.

"Can I get your order?" She asked, her New York accent thick. Her fake nails held a glittery pen and pad. "'Cause I ain't got all day."

I looked on the menu, then cursed. There was a picture of Percy holding a greasy burger, smiling and winking with a speech bubble: HUNGRY FOR YOU!

I snapped the menu closed, looking back at the server. "I'm really not all that hungry. How about a pastry?"

"Sure. There's the Jackson Roll, the Percy Perfection, and the Cinnamon Singer," she explained, making my stomach churn. And it wasn't for the pastry.

"Are all your foods themed after… a certain celebrity?"

She smiled proudly. "Yep. It's all about the advertising. So what'll it be: the Jackson Roll or the Cinnamon Singer?"

I smiled weakly. "Do you have anything else?"

She tapped one glittery nail on her chin before looking around.

"Look, I'm really not supposed to do this," she leaned in, "But you seem like a nice lady, so here's the secret. Since Percy Jackson is doing our advertising, we have a new pastry coming out. It's called the Percy-Pastry, and I have one out back. If you want to try it… Or, there's the Perfect Percy Pastry, the I Love You A Latte, or the How Can I Express-o? Your choice."

I shoved myself away from the table and stood stiffly. "No thanks. I just remembered that I ate breakfast already."

She looked at my in question, then shrugged. "Ah, what can you do? This is New York, for crying out loud!"

I smiled before turning around.

Turning right there to face a huge billboard of Percy's flawless face.

"Try my new cologne, Cashmere Cradle—the smoothest blend of luxurious, seductive scents that are sure to cradle you to sleep," he smiled sweetly, and my insides ached.

Suddenly, he was everywhere—on shopping bags, on commercial screens. His face, his body, his voice… Anything and everything that could be advertised on, he was _there_.

"I can't do it," I whispered.

The waitress peered up from her checkbook. "What was that, dear?"

Without warning, I began to run down the crowded sidewalk. "I can't do it."


End file.
